


happy, happy birthday baby

by CapriciousCrab



Series: Bingo fic 2018 [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Birthday, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 17:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16268828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousCrab/pseuds/CapriciousCrab
Summary: There's no tea brewing here. No pancakes sizzling in the pan or a bowl of fresh fruit waiting for him at the counter. No blue eyes lighting up with happiness as he enters the room.It's his birthday. And he's alone.





	happy, happy birthday baby

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Phandom Fic Fests Bingo Fest
> 
> prompt: birthday

June 11

 

It's fitting that it rains on his birthday, the low rumbles of thunder rousing him from his sleep. The sheets are soft under his cheek as he tries to go back to sleep, pressing the extra pillow over his head, but he can still hear the rain pattering and blowing against the window so he sighs and gives up.  
  
He crawls out of bed to have his morning tea and stops at the balcony door to watch the fat droplets run down the window like tears. He stands and watches the storm-heavy clouds drift by until his nose burns and his eyes water with tears of his own as he turns away and continues to the kitchen.  
  
There's no tea brewing here. No pancakes sizzling in the pan or a bowl of fresh fruit waiting for him at the counter. No blue eyes lighting up with happiness as he enters the room.  
  
It's his birthday. And he's alone.  
  
**  
  
Later he goes to the pub, celebrating with a few friends from the station who were currently sat at a table by the window. Calling them friends is slightly generous as they're really his co-workers, but they had wanted to take him out for his birthday and he couldn't figure out a way to turn them down without looking like an asshole. He's been trying to have a good time but he'd much rather be at home in his pants, sad-eating his way through a pint of salted caramel ice cream.  
  
It's a nice place, this bar. Old-fashioned with its dark wood paneling and hazy lights, it's the kind of place that makes you feel comfortable when you step inside. There's a jukebox in the corner that he can't resist, and he cycles through the selections until he lands on the one he wants. It's a little emo and he knows his mates will give him shit for it when he gets back to the table but fuck it. It's his birthday and he's allowed.  
  
He's on his way back to the table when he freezes in his tracks, causing the waitress trailing behind him to run into him, the bottles on her tray rattling and clinking together.  
  
“Sorry, sorry!” he blurts, wishing for invisibility as embarrassment sweeps over him.  
  
She takes pity on him and offers him a small smile before moving around him, heading toward the bar. “It's alright, love. My fault” she tosses over her shoulder.  
  
But his attention is focused on the man across the room, his gaze locked onto him in disbelief.  
  
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Dan hisses under his breath as he ducks behind a nearby pillar, trying to hide all six-plus feet of himself.  
  
He can't believe his fucking luck. Of all nights, out of all the fucking bars in London, Phil Lester was here across the room from him. He'd recognize that profile anywhere. And he should, considering he'd looked at it every day for the better part of eight years. He peeks around the pillar, trying to get another glimpse of him without being seen himself. He's being ridiculous, and god knows he probably looks like an idiot. But it's been so long and he just wants to look, just for a moment.  
  
Phil's sat at the bar with his body angled out slightly toward the room. His hair is pushed back into a quiff, stylishly tousled and effortlessly sexy. He's wearing his glasses, the thick black frames setting off those blue eyes that Dan still sees in his dreams some nights.  
  
His face is thinner than he remembered and as he slides his eyes over the rest of him he realizes that Phil has gone from naturally slender to almost dangerously thin. He has the fragile appearance of someone recovering from a long illness and Dan's stomach suddenly clenches at the thought of Phil being sick.  
  
He's wearing that long-sleeved dress shirt Dan had bought him for Christmas, pale pink with the slightly shimmery collar, and black slim-fit trousers. There's a blazer tossed on the back of his chair and the thought of those broad shoulders in that blazer has Dan's mouth going a bit dry. Phil's always looked incredibly attractive when he's dressed up, and tonight is no exception. He watches as Phil smiles at someone Dan's not able to see and he can't help but bristle, back tensing with an envy he's never been able to curb.  
  
He shifts where he stands, trying to see the recipient of that smile while telling himself that it's definitely not because he's jealous. He barely moves but it's enough to catch Phil's attention and Dan watches in breathless horror as Phil looks up and makes direct eye contact.  
  
It's a punch to the gut, watching that face light up and his eyes fill with longing before going blank and empty. Dan's breath hitches in his throat as Phil turns to the man seated next to him and murmurs something, motioning toward Dan lurking near the end of the bar. The blond looks over his shoulder then, his green eyes filled with what looks like quiet disdain, before turning back to Phil and nodding his head. They gather their jackets and pay their tab before heading toward the door. The blond never looks back, but Phil does, his steady stride faltering as he nears the door.  
  
As if unable to help himself he turns and looks back at Dan once again, his face filled with a quiet sorrow that Dan knows is mirrored on his own. Dan takes a step forward, for what he's not sure, but Phil shakes his head before walking out the door. He's not sure how long he stands there before one of his mates comes looking for him.  
  
“You alright Dan?”  
  
Dan jumps as he feels a hand come to rest on his shoulder and shakes his head before turning back. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just thought I saw somebody I used to know.”  
  
He takes one last look at the door Phil had just walked through before forcing a smile.  
  
“Now, I thought I heard somebody say something about cake?”  
  
**  
  
The rest of the night passes by in a hazy blur, his mind too overwhelmed by the chance encounter with Phil to focus on much of anything else. He makes a wish as he blows out his candles and it's the same wish he makes whenever the clock strikes 11:11 or when he sees a falling star. He eats his cake and tries to focus on the people he's with but he can't help the relief he feels when they call it a night, tolerating the hugs and back slaps as everyone says their goodbyes.  
  
He's grateful to be alone right now, lost in his head as he walks to the flat they used to share. It's harder tonight to walk this path, knowing that he'll be unlocking the door to an empty place that used to be a home filled with light and love and laughter.  
  
Now it's cold and quiet. Sad, just like he is all the damn time.  
  
He wishes he could go back in time and fix everything that went wrong. He'd take back the things he had said, those things that he hadn't meant but had spilled from his mouth like poison. He'd take back the arguing and the petty bullshit they had let build.  
  
He'd take back the words 'I'm done'.  
  
If he closes his eyes for too long he can still see the look on Phil's face; the shock and pain and denial draining the color from his cheeks before he had spun on his heel and left the room, then the flat.  
  
Maybe this is why he doesn't sleep very much anymore.  
  
He doesn't know where Phil went that night and stubborn pride had kept him from asking. They'd existed in a state of brittle silence, the passing days growing more and more tense, until one afternoon Phil had gone.  
  
He can still feel a ghostly echo of the shock and fear that had rippled through his body when he had come through the door.

  
  
All those little pieces of Phil were gone.  
  
The shelves that used to hold with their shared possessions had looked unbalanced; Phil's books and candles and DVDs missing. Even the golden pig that proudly used to guard the entrance way to their home had been gone. All the brightest spots in the flat, the little things that brought the swirls of color and light, had been absent. Only shades of gray were left behind.  
  
Just like Dan had been left behind.

  
  
He finally makes it home and trudges up the stairs, fishing his keys from his pocket and unlocking the door. He'd left the lights on and when he leans over to take off his shoes, he notices the envelope laying on the floor in front of the door. He stoops to pick it up, and his breath catches on a silent gasp.  
  
It's from Phil.  
  
He'd recognize that messy, slightly shaky handwriting anywhere. His heart pounds so hard in his chest that he's afraid he might actually be in danger of passing out. He moves to sit on the sofa and turns the envelope over in his hands, taking a deep breath before opening it up.  
  
It's a birthday card. A birthday card with a corgi on the front, surrounded by balloons and wearing a birthday hat, that says “Have a bow wow time on your birthday!”. It's stupid and ridiculous and so wonderfully Phil that he can't help but gurgle out a wet laugh, his throat clicking as he tries to swallow back his tears.  
  
His hands shake when he opens the card and he blinks the moisture from his eyes as he begins to read.  
  
_Happy, Happy Birthday Baby._  
  
_I know I can't call you that anymore. You said that you were done, and I should respect that. But old habits are hard to break, especially after seeing you tonight._  
  
_You looked as beautiful as ever, Dan, and it took everything I had to not walk over to you and sweep you off of your feet, to take you home and cover your face with kisses. I miss covering your face in kisses._  
  
_I hope I didn't spoil your birthday, but I miss you, Dan._  
_I wonder... if I knocked on the door, would you let me in?_  
  
He's crying now, silent tears that run down his cheeks to drip off his chin. He hugs the card to his chest and lets himself cry, rocking for comfort. He's so lost in his own head that he almost doesn't hear the timid knock at the door. Almost.  
  
His head snaps up in shock and then he's scrambling off of the couch, tripping over his feet as he dashes for the door. His hands are fumbling for the knob and then he's flinging open the door, his breath catching and then releasing a name in a trembling, breathless sigh.  
  
“Phil...”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> you can like/reblog [here](https://capriciouscrab.tumblr.com/post/178962607165/happy-happy-birthday-baby-rating-t-word-count) if you'd like :-)


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